


A Definite Perhaps

by SimonBlackchill



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Banter, Ficlet, Flirting, M/M, Short One Shot, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 22:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21345898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimonBlackchill/pseuds/SimonBlackchill
Summary: Abnur Tharn wishes to handle the Elsweyr situation without too many interruptions Too bad the Vestige is a mischievous one and isn't afraid to show it.
Relationships: Abnur Tharn/Male Vestige
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	A Definite Perhaps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kissecat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissecat/gifts).

> This is a reward ficlet for monthly ko-fi donations, so thank you Kisse my friend! Due to the nature of my ko-fi reward ficlets, the story is not too coherent. It's also extremely self-serving. I used some actual in-game dialogue of Tharn's as an inspiration.
> 
> Firion Forgotten is my pvp support character, he's a Templar and an Altmer who was cast aside by Summerset social circles.

“My plan is to confound her with words she barely understands.”

“And?”

“And then you come in. The most brilliant part of my plan.”

Abnur Tharn placed his hands behind his back and smiled. “You will pretend to be my personal valet and bodyguard. She has never been able to resist a pretty face.”

Tharn had never been much of a flirt. Affectionate banter to him was only a way of demonstrating his position above others, as was in this case. That Firion had discombobulated Tharn’s disposition way too often, with his scantily clad body and his arrogant grin that occasionally left Tharn speechless.

Firion grinned before he said what within a split second came to his mind. Tharn’s victorious smirk faded at the same time, because he also knew what he was about to hear:

“Seems you two have more in common than you realize, Tharn.”

Usually Tharn had a response or two in his back pocket for people who thought he had more emotional investment in them than he actually did. Now, he merely scoffed and nodded towards the door of the palace.

“Just follow me and refrain from talking unless talked to.”

* * *

“Do you think you’re the first one to try and seduce me?” Tharn said and lifted his chin. “A man of my stature would have women and men throwing themselves at my feet if I so wanted.”

Firion moved the goblet in his hand in a circular motion, making sure the wine did not quite spill, but so that it swirled enough to reveal its aroma better. A sophisticated gesture, especially from a woodland ruffian like Firion.

“Are you saying you prefer that approach?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. And don’t draw conclusions, it isn’t your strong suit. You just embarrass yourself.”

The latter was only a barely veiled attempt at projecting. The stars above and the gods that ruled it knew that Abnur Tharn liked hearing Firion’s conclusions. The fire pit between them left no room for Abnur Tharn to hide his fleeting smirk in. Firion Forgotten was not bright, but he was the Vestige and he had a delightful sense of humour.

“I don’t mind a bit of embarrassment,” Firion said and took a sip of his wine. He drew his hood off of his head, revealing a side shave and a blond ponytail in the middle of it. And naturally, not a wrinkle in sight. His green eyes glowed in an orange shade in the light of the fire.

“Do _ you _?” Firion asked. He lifted his eyebrows that were asymmetrical in shape to begin with. Abnur’s lips parted. And even though he seemed to see everything before him in slow motion, even though Firion very slowly placed his goblet onto a barrel next to him, even though he carefully slid himself closer to Abnur Tharn on the bench, Tharn felt like he had no time to react. He could only hope that Firion did not see how he froze, even if for a split second.

“Get to the point, Vestige. I get my daily dose of riddles from the Moon-Singers.”

His words were close to scrambling when he saw Firion’s lips part. The night was quiet enough to let Abnur hear the subtle smacking sound it caused.

Firion tilted his head. “Losing your breath, old man?”

“There’s enough breath left in me.”

“Enough for what?”

Abnur Tharn inhaled Firion’s scent, so close the handsome man was that Tharn could determine the distinct scents of woods, perfume, and sweat. The sweat must have been the strongest one, for it intoxicated Abnur so completely. A natural reaction, of course…

“For whatever you have in mind, seeing to how close you are and how determined you are to embarrass me.”

“I like how your voice never wavers,” Firion whispered and openly, unashamedly, glanced at Abnur’s lips. The armour Tharn wore felt three sizes too small, especially the trousers. He felt confined, restricted, trapped between his clothes and the Vestige beside him.

“It won’t waver, I can promise you that.”

It did not, not even against Firion’s lips, not even when his tongue had a taste of Tharn’s salty skin, not even when his hands wandered and his low voice chuckled in his ear. Did Tharn like being embarrassed like this, underneath the gazes of Jone and Jode in the sky?

The answer was a definite _ perhaps_.


End file.
